Not Without A Fight
by SuperYellowSentai
Summary: Sam goes missing one night after a fight with her father. Dean isn't quite sure that what took her was supernatural in nature. Fem!Sam (Too be safe) rated T for some sexual content. NO rape or sex (COMPLETED)
1. Chapter 1

Sam goes missing one night after a fight with her father. Dean isn't quite sure that what took her was supernatural in nature. FemSam Rated K for some sexual content. NO rape or sex

**Chapter One**

She had never been so mad with her father. Sure they fought, a lot, but while she was trying to stay a couple extra days to celebrate Dean's twentieth her dad had finally done it. _Useless, weak, emotional_. Finally her old man had told her just what he had thought of her all along. Dean saw the light go in her eyes, and Bobby had tried to stop her but she was too quick. In a split second she had the door unlocked and she was running full speed, fueled by anger and grief, away from the motel room.

She heard Dean and Bobby's call to stop; she heard Dean's heavy breath and thundering footsteps as he tried to catch up to her. None of that mattered though. She had to get away. She was tired of her dark and scary world. Sixteen year she had endured it, but today she just had enough.

Still running blindly, taking random turns to lose her shadow, she hadn't noticed her brother fall behind. She had lost him three minutes ago but in her angered thoughts she couldn't tell. It wasn't until she met hard with a trash can that she was forced to stop. With a loud cry she landed hard on her face sending trash on top of her.

Finally for the first time in six years she did the unthinkable. Hot, wet tears welled up in her eyes and ran down her face. A shocking sound escaped her lips; wailing. Here she was sitting in an alley with trash thrown all over her and she was crying like a baby. Her sobs go raspier and harder when she felt immediate regret at the tears.

This is what her father thought of her. This was the ultimate sign of weakness; trash lurking with trash.

"No." She was not going to be weak. She wasn't going to prove that her father was right. With a groan she pushed herself up, but paused hissing at a sharp pain in her hand. Great, she would be crawling home with red puffy eyes and a large shard of glass in her palm. Not to mention her ankle that she could already feel aching with each pump of blood.

She pulled out the bit of glass stinging her palm and whipped out a bandana to wrap around the wound. After taking thirty minutes to get her composure and calm, she slipped her cell out of her pocket and dialed without any though Dean's current number.

"Damn it, Sam. I've been trying to call you for an hour." She heard the familiar sound of her brother smacking the impala's steering wheel.

"I'm sorry." Sam pushed herself up and started walking to the mouth of the alley.

"I called for you to stop. I told you to stop running, Sam." Dean sighed, and gave a slow inhale and exhale to calm himself. "Look, I'm sorry; about everything. Dad shouldn't have said what he did, and I shouldn't have snapped just now. I was just worried. You've been gone for over an hour."

Sam was a little surprised at the time too. Had she really cried that long. "It's ok Dean. I shouldn't have run off. I was just mad."

"Damn right you were mad. I swear your face turned red." Dean paused and took another breath. She could hear the whine of the engine as he pulled to the side. "Now where the hell are you?"

Finally clear of the alley Sam looked around to check her surroundings. "Wow, I'm all the way by Maggie's diner."

"Dang, Spaghetti legs, you really booked it." Dean put the car back into drive and was on the road again. "I'll be there in ten. What do you say we find a 24 hour place and grab a burger?"

For the first time since this ordeal she smiled. Dean always knew how she felt and how to cheer her up. He also probably figured she didn't want to face up to dad yet. "Yeah a burger sounds good, but I'll probably need stitches so-"

"Stitches!? What the hell did you do?"

"Collided with a trash can; don't worry I just got a shard of glass in my hand."

"Just a bit of glass in your hand…" Dean replied sarcastically.

"Hey you know damn well we've had worse." Sam started walking over toward a nearby bench. "Besides-"

A hand grabbed her arm, and jerked her into a hug. "Allie, are you ok? Are you hurt?"

Sam lashed out and elbowed the man in the gut, winding the stranger. "Sorry buddy, wrong person." She backed up and took a defensive stance.

She heard her brother franticly yelling over the line, asking if she was ok, and who the strange man was. Well she certainly wanted to know too, but wasn't planning on staying around long enough to find out.

"Allie. You don't remember? I thought that when you had fled from the room away from the men you had remembered." He stayed back, keeping his distance. As if he were trying to gain trust to a wild animal.

"What am I supposed to remember? I hate to break it to you, but the names Winchester; Samantha Winchester. I haven't heard of Allie, but I'm sure once my big brother shows up we could help you find her." Sam didn't leave the stance. She kept her eyes solely on the strange man. She did take the time to tuck the phone in her pocket, leaving Dean to hear their conversation.

As she suspected the stranger seemed unhappy at their imminent family reunion. "You called your kidnappers? Have they brain washed you Allie?"

"Not really listening are we. Names not Allie." She stepped back putting more distance between them.

The man seemed to be in a panic his eyes darted around, but it was then that she realized who her attacker was. "Beareded Kay." She should have done something about him before it had even come to this. Now more than ever she was afraid.

Before Sam could come up with a plan the man snapped into action, he grabbed her around the middle, absorbing the young girl's punch, and took them both to the ground. Sam squirmed and fought but the man was bigger and stronger and soon had her in a choke hold.

"I really didn't want to do this Allie. This wasn't my intent."

Sam gasped and clawed at the arm blocking her breath. After a minute he loosened his hold however before Sam could take in a hungry breath a rag was pressed over her nose and mouth. Her eyes widened in shock as she recognized the scent of chloroform and she fought off the hold harder. If she blacked out now, it was over. She couldn't go down.

As a last act of desperation, she raked her fingernails over his hands drawing lines of blood. But he refused to let go. Just as she was determined to get away, he was twice more to getting back his _Allie._ Her fighting slowed and her world was going white at the edges.

She weakly tried calling for her brother, but he was probably a few miles away and by the time he got there it would be too late. She shut her eyes and felt the hold around her leave, but by that time she was on the brink of unconsciousness, and could do little about her situation. Last she was aware she was being lifted up and then there was a sea of white.

xxxXXXxxx

The rumbling of the impala's engine stopped as Dean twisted the key and pulled it out. It had been a long night.

By the time he had finally made it to Maggie's diner all he had found was a smashed cell and overturned bench. After a quick call to his father, the three men had split up and canvassed the area. At six John had circled back to the motel to change into his _FBI _suit and stop by Maggie's to see if he could gain access to any security cameras.

After four hours John had finally called back Dean and Bobby to the motel. Dean hesitated at the door. His father's tone had sounded defeated, and something he had never heard so evident; worried.

Bobby camp up from behind and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Come on boy. Your dad has news." The elder propelled both forward and opened the door. "Whatever it is, we'll find her."

Both walked into a heart wrenching sight. John lay on the bed his eyes closed and his arm draped over his eyes. His face read exhaustion, a sight uncommon on John Winchester, while a cold one sat empty and still sweating on the bedside table. Hearing their arrival though he snapped up alert, a hard expression wiping any emotion off.

"Well?" Bobby dragged a chair over. "What did you find?"

John scrubbed a hand through his tousled hair. "She left the alley and she was using her phone, talking to Dean, and a man came up and started talking to her.

"We know that dad, I heard him."

Bobby gave the young man a warning glance. "What happened next, John?"

John hesitated before he began again. "She took a defensive stance, but he took her to the ground and put her in a choke hold. Somehow he soaked a rag and it appears chloroformed her. He walked off camera with her and a few minutes later I assume his van drove past the camera."

The young man didn't say anything. He plopped down on the bed and turned his back on the other two. The van had passed him last night. In his haste to get to Maggie's and help his sister he had not given it a second glance. Of course after finding the scene, he had driven around trying to find it with the suspicion, but a lot of good that had done.

"I take it the image is too fuzzy for facial recognition, or plate numbers." Bobby guessed and was proved right when John shook his head all too slow.

"The man was big and bulky, that's all I noticed." John grabbed for the bottle on the table and frowned when he found it empty. "No glowing eyes, no static, I'm fairly certain that this is a who and not a what."

"Great!" Dean threw up his arms grabbing the attention of the other two men. "So we know that he is a big, bulky guy with a van. That doesn't get us any closer to finding her, he could be halfway across the country by now."

Bobby stood up and walked to the window in a nervous pace. "Not necessarily the case. You heard over the line the man insist that she was _Allie_. So that means an adolescent girl around sixteen named Allie is either missing, or murdered. Whoever this is has to be a father or an uncle."

John sighed. "That could be countless. You forget runaways and kidnappings. Also this guy could be delusional; this could have happened ten years ago, or never, maybe it's all in his messed up head."

Bobby growled and scrubbed his face. "Did she say anything else?"

"Hmm?" Dean looked up from his wallowing. "What do you mean?"

"When she talked to you, or during the fight before you lost connection, did she say anything that could help identify this man?"

Dean shut his eyes and recalled the phone call. His mind seemed fixated on her scream though, and the rough sound of her falling to the ground. "I don't know. I can't focus on the words; all I can hear is…"

"Think, idjit." Bobby groused. "She could have said something, anything that could help her."

Dean glared at the man but knew he was right. He had to quit feeling sorry for himself and just man up.

_"I'm sorry, I have to go."_ She had sounded scared and Dean assumed she had put the phone to her side to give her brother a clear connection to the conversation because she certainly wasn't hearing a word he was saying.

_"Look I'm sorry if I frightened you. Let me give you a ride back to the motel."_

Dean snapped his eyes opened. "He knew where we were staying. He offered her a ride. And she seemed pretty freaked. Then she said-"

_"Beareded Kay."_

"Beareded Kay? She said Bearded Kay…" Dean frowned. "Although I don't know what an alphabet with facial hair has to do with -" Dead cut off his eyes focused on the wall paper while his mind started working. It wasn't a letter; it was a character. Kay, from Men in Black. They had gone to see it two years ago at the theatre.

"The motel owner." Dean breathed. "I checked in with Sammy before we started the hunt. While I was paying he kept staring at Sam like she was a ghost. We joked about it afterward, and she stated he looked like Agent Kay in the movie MIB, but with facial hair. So I dubbed him Beareded Kay as a joke. While we were at the motel she complained he kept watching her and was getting freaked out."

John frowned. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"She never tells _you _anything, and that's beside the point. That asshole took her."

"Doesn't matter who tells who what." Bobby broke the two from their glare. "We are getting her back. Now I believe I have some words about our room to give to the owner."

xxxXXXxxx

A pulsing pain greeted her and slowed her ascent to consciousness. It seemed like every fiber of her hurt. She had a headache, her palm stung, and her legs felt like they had just run a marathon. She fought to clear her head; to remember.

_"Damn it Sam we can't stay, we have the next job to go to."_

Her father's angry face suddenly broke through the fog. He kept talking the memory fuzzy and like a bad VHS, without sound. It picked up again for her to hear, _"-so God damned useless."_

That was right. The fight. Dad and her had fought, again, and she had run. Then the trash, the ground, and the glass.

Another pulse of pain went through her head and it nearly forced her back into the void. No. Think. Remember. Dean comforting her over the phone, the promise of warm fast food…and the man."

The memory of his body crashing into her forced her eyes opened, but just as quick she shut them in pain. The light was doing no good alleviating the headache.

Fight through the pain, she urged herself. Snap out of it.

She opened her eyes again and despite the pulsing pain kept them opened allowing her pupils to constrict. The light was coming from a small single bulb hanging high in the center of the small room. The walls were concrete and unpainted and a set of steep stairs led up to a thick wooden door sitting on the ceiling. A storm cellar; she was sitting in a storm cellar.

She had seen more than a few in her young sixteen years. For whatever reason every ghostly Dick and Harry had a storm cellar, and more than a few times she recalled finding them the hard way.

With a groan she pushed herself up and winced at the motion. The trash can must have done more damage than she remembered. She looked down at her swollen ankle, and was shocked to find the other chained to the wall with a short leash, only allowing a few feet.

"You awake, Allie?" A voice called above. The next second more light filtered in and the man took the steps down relieved to see her awake. "I'm sorry about the accommodations, but you were less than agreeable the last time."

Sam didn't say anything just frowned.

"I brought your favorite; grilled cheese, with tomato soup." He placed the tray down and shoved it toward the girl trying to keep a fair distance between them. He also produced a bag from his shoulder. "I have a bag of ice for your ankle, and a Tylenol if you need anything for the pain."

She still didn't respond, although her stomach responded with a loud rumble. She didn't know how long it had been but it had obvious been a while since her last meal, but she'd be damned if she accepted anything from this man.

"On the drive to the cabin, I even got fresh strawberries. Miss Mae was selling them at her stand. She says hi." He smiled sadly. "Remember Miss Mae. Before we stopped at the cabin we would go to her field, and she would let you pick a basket of strawberries. Of course you would eat more than you picked and your mother would complain about how your stomach would get upset."

When she still didn't say anything the man got angry. "Jesus, say something."

"Why?" Sam finally croaked her throat sore with lack of use and water. "It doesn't matter what I have to say, because you won't listen."

"I'm sorry baby, but I am trying to fix it. Fix everything." He placed the bag down and slid it over to the girl as well. "I know I gave good reason for you to run, but I'm better. I promise, and when I find your mother again we can be a family."

"Even if I was Allie, how would this fix anything? My dad is nowhere near perfect, but he wouldn't assault me and lock me up." She didn't add _unless we were on a case and something was horribly wrong._

"Eat up. I'll be down to get the tray in a while." He went back up the stairs and shut the heavy door.

Sam could also make out the sound of a padlock slipping in place and clicking closed. Perfect, because a shackled ankle wasn't bad enough. The situation finally got to her and she let out a pent up scream.

She should have taken her feelings seriously. Every time that blasted man stared at her, she had felt unsettled, scared even. Plus he had shown up everywhere. Dean had dismissed it. _Just a kookie man, he won't try and touch you. If he does though I'll throttle him._ Well Dean wasn't here to throttle anyone now.

Dean. She wondered how he was right now.

xxxXXXxxx

Knowing her brother he would be blaming himself. Running himself ragged trying to find her. She hated being this weak and letting someone get her. She hated putting her brother, and herself, through this trauma.

Dean returned from the food run that Bobby had insisted on. He didn't say a word as he closed the door behind him and unceremoniously dumped a burger and fries in front of his father.

"I know you're mad at me." John said tiredly ignoring the bag his eyes to the ceiling. "But we need to get past this if we want to find Sam. We need to do this as a family."

"Mad? You think that I'm just mad at you?" Dean spun around venom in his tone. "Oh it is a lot more than that. If you hadn't been so…so YOU last night, she would be here. Not God knows where with a psychopath."

John's expression didn't change, which further infuriated Dean.

"I mean really. She wanted to stay an extra two days for my birthday. Would that have been too much? Two days wouldn't have made much of a difference in a case involving people rapidly losing luck in Nevada. But no, so happy friggen birthday to Dean."

"Dean, I-"

The man was on a roll though and cut off his father. "She loves you. More than you know. Hell I love you. All we want to do is make you proud. All we want is to know that we're doing something good. And you throw the worst insults you possibly can at her. You tear her down. I should have stopped you last night. I should have punched you and taken her with me."

John looked stunned. His boy never spoke to him like that.

"And I'll tell you what. If anything happens and she doesn't make it, or we never find her, I am packing up all my shit and leaving." Dean threw down the remaining sacks in his hand

"Dean. I'm -"

John started awkwardly, but stopped when the door flew open and Bobby rushed in. He took a quick look at the two and sighed.

"I leave you two idjits alone and you both act like fools." Bobby frowned.

"What did you find?" Dean asked. Ignoring the statement and unwrapping his burger with a little more force than it required.

"Well I checked with the station and found that the manager was telling the truth. David Werde seven years ago reported his daughter Allie Werde a runaway. However he didn't tell the kid everything." Bobby plopped down and ruffled through the bag. "No onions?"

Dean nodded.

Bobby took a quick bite and ignored the stares. He chewed and swallowed before continuing. "Celina Werde, his wife did leave him the following year, however she disappeared off the face of the planet. Her sister called frantic because she hadn't heard from her in weeks. There was an investigation and signs of abuse were evident, but they couldn't pin anything on him, there was just no proof."

"Polite version of no bodies were found." John added from his bed, food still untouched.

"So he probably killed Allie. Hid the evidence and when his wife found out, she was just a _runaway_ too." Dean put the food down, suddenly not hungry. "If he did all that, then why take Sammy."

"If there is a problem with him he probably shut out the memory; changed the situation around in his grief so that he wasn't the bad guy. His daughter really did runaway, and his wife just upped and abandoned the search. So that when he sees Sam, he's finally found his lost girl." John picked up the photo they had _confiscated _from the manager. The family looked happy enough; a smiling wife, a strong husband, and a beautiful daughter, who resembled Sam to a freaky degree.

Dean stood up. "We are all missing the point. If he gutted his family, what's to stop him from doing it now? Just because he_ found _Allie doesn't mean that she'll be safe."

"Well we just have to find her as soon as possible." Bobby crumpled his wrapper and attempted to toss in the small trashcan by the door. "I know that the manager said that he didn't know where he would go, but did you find anything John?"

John shook his head. "I called around and Werde owns no land, no cabins, or even an RV. When he lost both his wife and daughter he even lost his home."

"Well I stopped by his apartment, and he's not home, packed up practically for good. There were a few photos he left behind in a box in the closet." Dean reached into the inner pocket of his coat, and pulled out a handful of photos. "Most of them are in the woods, and a few show the same cabin."

John grabbed for the photos. In the photos they appeared to be the same location but Allie was the clue to the time difference. In one she was an infant, and the oldest she appeared was a brooding fourteen. "Well it's defiantly the same place, but different time. I bet if he took her anywhere it would be here."

Bobby gave the photos a good look when they were passed his way. "Where do you think this place is? I certainly don't recognize it." Bobby flipped the photos to look at the back but found only a date and names scrawled on them.

"What if he doesn't own the cabin?" Dean finally said his face lighting up at the thought. "What property does his wife own?"

A/N- It probably won't go to long. This simply started out as a concept of how much more protective Dean would have been if Sam was a girl, and transformed to bits and pieces of dialog that I would play in my head while doing the mundane daily tasks. To finally stop thinking about it so much I started writing down all the details and it started turning into a decent story line.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Thank you very much for your help." John finished scrawling down notes on the hotel stationary. "I will give you call if I have any more questions."

Dean sat up and looked at his father expectantly as his father hung up the cell.

John looked up and his looked excited for the first time. "Arthur, Nebraska. Tabitha Meade, Celina's sister, says that their grandfather built a cabin on his land. Every summer without fail, the Werde family would take a few weeks out of summer vacation to visit the cabin."

Bobby glanced down at the map open in front of him. His eyes scanned the names of cities, until they landed on Arthur. "Should take us better part of the evening, but we can get there. Did she say where the land is?"

"About thirty miles north of the small town." John picked up the scratch paper he had used. "We're supposed to take a country road, and the land should be gated, but it has an old duck mail box so it shouldn't be too hard to find."

Dean already shot up shoving their few belongings in the doufle bags. In no time he had his impala packed up and ready to go. Next to him Bobby had locked the door to his truck and joined Dean.

"I'll be riding with you so that you don't get lost on the way." Bobby smiled. "Just promise me once we find her, I can get a ride back."

"Deal." Dean smiled back for the first time. They knew where Sammy was. And soon she would be away from the crazy motel owner.

The two men waited until John exited the motel office, having just checked in the keys to the room. "Ok let's go."

xxxXXXxxx

Sam slouched against the wall staring at the now cold meal. She picked up the melted ice pack off her ankle and scooted towards the food. He wouldn't poison her would he? He was nowhere near sane, but would he try and off his _daughter_.

Deciding to risk it, she finally wolfed hungrily at the sandwich, alleviating the hunger in her stomach just enough.

In the time she had been awake she had tried to think of every possible way she could escape. But her mind remained blank. Even if she managed to get the shackle off her ankle, there was the cellar door to worry about. The padlock was sure to keep her down there for a good long time. She thought maybe she could unscrew the door from the floor, but that would take hours, and she didn't imagine she'd have that much time before he'd be back down. Besides the shackle still remained a problem.

Never before had she wished that she was _girly_, however in the given situation, she imagined that a girly girl would have at least one bobby pin in her hair. If she ever got out of this situation alive, she swore she'd wear a single bobby pin every day of her life.

No not if. When. There was no way she could afford to be melodramatic, not with that daughter losing psychopath upstairs.

As if the thought had been a call, she heard the padlock release and the door pull up; the next second the man's boots were visible clomping down the stairs. Upon reaching the bottom he saw her empty plate and smiled.

"I'm glad you ate." He started to walk towards Sam but stopped at just the distance of her chain.

Something inside Sam snapped. He was trying to win her over, like she was some wild animal. Eventually, in his head, he'd be petting her head, and teaching her tricks.

"Is your ankle better, love?" He asked crouching down to meet her eyes.

"Don't call me love." Sam groused backing up to the wall and shoving the tray at him. "I am not your love."

His face twisted, and he stood up tray in hand. "Damn it Allie!" Without a warning he threw the tray startling Sam as it bounced and landed dented next to her.

"I have been trying so hard to keep my patience. I haven't hit you. I haven't-" He growled in pain and turned around his hand on his crotch, trying to conceal it, but Sam had already seen.

A boner. He had just gotten a boner. She watched wide eyed as he unzipped his pants in the corner and furiously made a jerking motion. His back was to her but she knew perfectly well what he was doing and why.

After a few minutes he stopped, gave a sigh, and she heard him zip the pants back up. "I'm sorry Allie. But didn't you just see that I've gotten better. I've been working on myself. I know that what I did to you was wrong. But I can stop myself now."

He started taking small steps toward her, but Sam pressed herself to the wall. "You take one more step and bad ankle or not you will be walking out of this room bent over."

He balked at the violent change in her nature, but did as she asked and kept his distance. "Allie, I'm sorry."

"I keep telling you I'm not Allie; I have no clue who Allie is. However after seeing that, and knowing what you did to her I wouldn't blame the girl for skipping out on you. I may have problems with my real family, but _none_ of them have ever physically harmed me. And none of them have certainly raped me."

The man's eyes grew sad, but any pity she felt for the man was gone. Of course she had left him; of course the girl had headed for the hills and never turned back. She had been mentally and physically beaten. This man was delusional; he was more of a monster than the things that they hunted. At least with a werewolf or a vampire they had a reason for the violence, but this excuse for a human being hurt his own daughter, without any supernatural reasoning behind it.

The pure hatred must have shown in her eyes, because the man retreated up the stairs. The next second she heard the door close and the padlock click in place.

When she was sure he wasn't coming back down she put her head on the ground and curled up in a ball. For the second time in a long time she did the unthinkable again. She cried.

This time they weren't full of hatred. They were fueled by fear. She didn't want to be there anymore. She wanted to be with Dean, and yes even her father. She would have even preferred to be in some shitty motel room planning out a hunt, or hell on a hunt itself. Anywhere but the filthy cellar that she sat in, while a crazed man, whom had raped his own daughter, walked upstairs attempting to find new ways to gain her trust.

After a few minutes she sat up and wiped at her face. She wasn't getting out of the situation crying. She had been determined before, but with the understanding she had now there was absolutely no way that she was staying here longer than she needed to.

She glanced around at her surroundings again. The walls were bare though, not even a nail. Signs of metal fixtures evident on the hard concrete floor, but she was sure that anything in its place was long gone. The only thing in the room was the old bulb dangling above, now flickering obnoxiously.

Her eyes darted to the ground where the mess now lay. She had something she didn't think about before. A broken bowl and plate, the dented and nearly snapped in half tray, and the spoon intended for the now spilled soup. In his haste to leave her, he hadn't taken off with the dishes.

She grabbed the metal spoon and started to bend the top portion back and forth. It took a good ten minutes but she finally had the handle separated from its top. It was long hard work, but she started scraping the metal against the concrete trying to even out the jagged torn metal to fit inside the mechanism on her ankle. Her arm started to ache with the monotonous motion but she continued forming the metal to make almost an uneven screwdriver. After measuring the length for the third time she fit it in the lock of the shackle and held her breath trying to hear for every little sound the lock would make. After what felt like forever she felt the mechanism pop open and her ankle was freed.

"Note to self." She groaned as she pushed herself up avoiding the use of her bad palm. "Thank Dean for those boring lock picking lessons."

xxxXXXxxx

Dean had never driven so quickly; even Bobby groaned in disapproval at the sharp turns and reckless speeds at which Dean forced his precious Impala. But however reckless Dean was driving, his father was doing worse tenfold. Already a cop had tried to stop him, and already John had out witted them not once losing time on the drive, only gaining. Dean had lost count at how many times Bobby had muttered _idjits_ under his breath.

Halfway through the long drive they stopped, Bobby taking the keys from the exhausted young man and insisting that it was his turn to drive. Dean fought admirably, but soon he was snoozing in the passenger seat soothed by the sound of the light rain hitting the window.

After thirty minutes of rest Dean shot awake and rubbed at his face, silently kicking himself for sleeping at a time like this. "Why'd you let me fall asleep, Bobby?"

Bobby snorted. "I didn't let you, you just did. And you've been awake longer than 24 hours; it's your body's natural response."

"This is no time for me to sleep." Dean sat up grimacing at the drool he left behind on the window.

"What else were you planning on doing? I highly doubt that you can take up knitting on such a short drive ya idjit."

Dean frowned. "You know what I mean Bobby."

"No I don't." The man stayed focused on the road, never losing sight of the black truck just ahead. "If I were your sister, I would want you well rested and prepared. Sleeping isn't a bad thing. Besides what else were you planning on doing, fret."

"Well I don't think you would look quite as pretty in a dress as Sam, Bobby." Dean stretched and leaned over to play with the stations. Dean found a good station and sat back listening to the classic rock.

The two listened to the music, even didn't change the station when commercials came on.

"I am furious with him Bobby." Dean finally said breaking the silence between the two. "Every fiber of my being is just so angry at him."

Bobby gave a rough sigh. "Your father isn't a perfect man, by any meaning of the word. He's a brash, rude, driven son of a bitch, who sometimes lets his emotions get the better of him; but I do know for a fact that he loves you and that damn girl more than his own life itself. That man would go to hell and back for either one of you."

Dean stayed quiet.

"That night, he was already worried. Your sister is vocalizing her want to leave, and even if she wasn't saying it he can see it in her actions. He is losing his daughter. One day, he knows she is just going to up and leave, and there is nothing that he can do to stop it. The idea that she, or you, are out of his sight…unable to save at a moments notice; it scares him something powerful boy."

Dean's eyes trailed up to the truck as it weaved dangerously between cars. "He still didn't need to say what he did, though. She wouldn't have left, and we would all be having some cheesy birthday party in the motel."

"And I agree. Had your father kept his cool, she would be safe." Bobby frowned. "But life is too short for that kind of anger. Your father made a mistake, but there the moron is in front of us driving like a mad man to fix it."

John crossed three lanes without a blinker nearly running into another vehicle as he hit the entrance ramp to the next highway. Bobby cursed and followed suit just barely making it on the ramp before the lane ran out.

"A mad man who is going to get us all killed before we even make it to this cabin!"

xxxXXXxxx

Sam crept up the stairs, ignoring the pain in both her ankles and pressed her ear to the hatch door. She jumped back as the door vibrated when he stepped on the hatch above. Sam gave a small grimace and rubbed at her ear; that kind of hurt.

Shaking off the pain she started inspecting the hatch. The wood though old, was sturdy and strong, and the bolts holding it down were huge, way too big for her make-shift screwdriver. She didn't think she had anything that could take those things out. But then again, she hadn't originally thought she could get out of the shackle. She trudged downstairs to give another good look at the dishes, but stopped halfway.

On the ground next to the stairs was a girl, who practically was the mirror image of Sam. She looked sadly up at Sam, her hands wringing.

"Are you-" Sam cut herself off. Not quite believing it. "Are you, Allie?"

The girl's eyes widened at the name. Her dark hair sat longer and wound in a braid. Her bangs were poofed, and she wore a denim jacket paired with multicolored sweats. Sam by no means was a fashion expert, living with two men all her years had done that, but she was fairly certain that it implied that this girl wasn't from this year. "_Yes_."

Although the girl appeared to be there, and physically solid, Sam's experience told her that she really wasn't. The immediate give away was the girl's voice. It sounded as if, even though they were in the same room, she was getting bad echoy cell reception.

"You're dead?" Sam asked not moving from her stair.

"_Yes_." Allie state simply.

Sam paused and gave a grimace. "He killed you?" The only response was silence but Sam knew from the change in the girl's expression that it was true. It was worse than she thought. Not only was the man a child beater and a rapist, he had murdered his own child, and forgotten about it. If she hadn't felt scared of him before, she certainly was petrified of him now.

The girl frowned and glanced around the room, like it had been her second home. "_I'm sorry. He's sick, and his actions are wrong._"

"Damn right, there wrong. Ignoring my kidnapping completely, he stilled raped and beat you." Sam snarled out suddenly irritated at a stray hair from her pony tail. She took out the tie and pushed her greasy hair back up into a bun. "Not to mention murdered you. Do not make excuses for your father."

"_You are so much stronger than I ever was. You will get out; I know it._" Allie smiled. She pointed up at the hatch. _"Two black cars have just appeared. I believe they come for you._"

Sam's gaze shot up as she heard a loud bang, and the hatch vibrate. "Dean!"

"_Before you leave though, would you do me a favor?"_ Sam shifted her attention back to the girl, and gave a curt nod.

xxxXXXxxx

John burst into the small cabin, kicking the solid door down. He shifted immediately to the left where the miniature kitchen sat, his gun aimed on the man frozen mid-way on a grilled cheese sandwich. "Where. Is. My. Daughter." John growled out.

David Werde slowly turned around a polite smile on his face. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. However I do understand the pain, I recently lost my daughter as well."

"Try seven years ago," Bobby entered and stood behind his friend, rifle drawn on the man as well.

"I don't know what you are referring to." David put down the butter knife and started packing away the food in the fridge. "If I leave out the cheese and butter, Allie's lunch will be spoiled."

The men's guns followed Werde until he opened the fridge, the thick metal door blocking any visual. John's hunting instincts kicked in and he and Bobby booked it and jumped behind the couch before two wild shots went off in their direction.

"Who the hell keeps a gun in a fridge?" John ground out poking his head up to get a location on Werde.

Bobby popped up too taking a shot near the only thing exposed, the man's ankle, and cursing when Werde impossible danced away from the bullet. "I do you idjit. You can never be too safe."

Both men popped their heads up when they heard the crash of glass. Dean barreled in through the window, and grabbed a hold of the hand gun. "Where is my sister?" He ground out kicking out the man's feet and taking the gun, as he went down. He coolly aimed the weapon down at the man.

John and Bobby ran out from around the couch, and joined the young man in the kitchenette. "I'm not sure that you remember the details properly Mr. Werde. But seven years ago you lost your girl. She would be twenty three, right now, granted she's still alive." Three set of eyes stared expectantly down at the man.

"I made mistakes. Many mistakes, but I'm fixing them. You can't have my Allie. She came back to me for a reason." The man panted desperately. His hands scrambled on the ground trying to prop himself up.

Dean frowned. "That girl you took isn't Allie. Her name is Samantha Winchester. She is my sister, and I want her back you creep."

Something in the demeanor of the man changed. Dean could see the gears running in the man's head and his muscles tightening. "Creep, huh?" His hand went to his pocket and pulled out a hunting knife. He knocked away Bobby and John the sudden strength sending them to the ground, and dodged the shot from Dean impossibly. Fury fueled him as he grabbed the young man and wrapped a thick arm around his neck, slicing at Dean's arm to force the gun to the ground.

"That's what the police called me. That's what my sister-in-law called me. I am not a creep. Could I help it my daughter was so beautiful, and looked just like her mother back when we first met? Could I help it that she was just so alluring?" The man put the knife to Dean's side.

John shot up gun back in hand.

"My wife called me a creep. She told me that I had done wrong, that I was going to hell." He laughed maniacally. "Well if I'm going to hell, then I'm taking Allie-" He paused and breathed into Dean's ear. "-and you with me."

"Dean!" John called grabbing his boy's attention. "Flamingo."

The boy suddenly went limp in the man's arms. The man startled at the sudden weight, but didn't have time to think about it, the next second a steaming, bleeding hole sat between his eyes. Dean landed on the ground like a cat, and jumped away from the man's now dead body as it crashed down face first.

"You ok son?" John asked hoarsely as he lowered his weapon his eyes not leaving Werde.

Dean nodded and massaged his throat. "Yeah, thanks dad."

Bobby stood up with a groan. "Now we just have to find your sister."

"Wait. Both of you quiet." He slipped his gun to safety and slipped it in his waistband.

The two strained their ears, and finally heard it. Thumping. They inspected the cabin trying to find the sound, but it was Dean who found the source. The ground beneath him seemed to jolt, and he stumbled back staring at the out of place circular rug.

"Dad!" He called, as he ripped the rug away. "Storm cellar! But it's got a lock."

Bobby took no time to return to the body and search for a set of keys. He returned to the two men hunched over the vibrating wooden hatch.

"Sam! We're getting you out! Hold on!" Dean called as Bobby put the key in the padlock and twisted. It sprang open and the men opened the hatch.

Sam stood on one of the steps, her face lighting up at the sight of the three. "Oh thank God! When I heard the shots-"

She didn't have time to finish; Dean thundered down the steps to meet her and swept her up in a hug. She glanced up in surprise at Uncle Bobby and her father who both sank down on the ground in exhaustion.

Dean frowned and held the girl back by her shoulders inspecting her for wounds. "The next time, that I tell you to stop running, you STOP running. You hear me Sammy."

She nodded biting her lip to keep her emotions back.

"Now are you hurt?" Dean asked scooping her up into a bridal hold and carrying them both out of the cellar. He placed her on the ground and looked at her expectantly.

"I'm fine Dean."

"Are you hurt?" Dean asked again this time his voice more demanding.

Sam sighed and took in the three worried stares. "I think my ankle is spranged and I have a cut on my hand." She added though at their angered faces. "Both self inflicted, I had a collision with a trash can before this whole mess."

Dean grabbed her other ankle and frowned. "It seems a little raw."

"Shackle." Sam pulled her foot back. "But I got it off."

"How on earth did you do that?" Bobby asked helping her up.

She shrugged casually. "Broke a spoon and shaved it until it would fit in the lock."

John stayed back from the exchange. "Did he-" He stopped mid-way not sure how to ask, but Sam got the idea and shook her head a look of disgust on her face.

"No, but he rubbed one out in front of me." She shivered at the thought. "Guys are gross."

John closed the distance and crushed his daughter against him. All of the worry and pain he had been experiencing let out in his face, and the two stood arms around each other for a two minutes. "I am so sorry Sammy. You know what I said about you; I don't think that about you at all. In every hunt you're useful, and not once have you disappointed me."

Her face was crushed in his chest so he couldn't be sure but John swore he heard Sam call him _daddy._ Something she hadn't said in a long time. He finally released her from the hug and awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well then I suppose Bobby and I should take the body out back and burn it. Dean you patch up your sister, and yourself." John made sure to gesture to his sons bleeding arm.

"Wait." Sam called. She hobbled to the couch despite Dean's demand to sit, and shoved at the couch. "I owe someone a favor."

"What are you talking about Sammy?" Dean grabbed her wrists and turned her around. "What favor?"

Sam frowned not sure how to explain. "Allie, she's still here. She told me in the cellar that you guys had come for me. She wants to leave, and join her mother."

"Her body is here?" Bobby asked.

"There is a compartment under the couch."

The John shoved aside the couch, and they found another wooden hatch. When opened they found a set of bones, laid out with the hands over its rib cage.

"If it's ok we can burn them and release you." Sam called out her eyes darting around for any movement.

"_Please._" Dean near jumped when the Sam look alike appeared next to him. Her eyes fixated on the bones. She disappeared like static on a tv the next second, but her voice echoed one last thing._ "I'm so tired._"

John smiled at his daughter and gave Dean a pat on the shoulder. "Patch yourselves up. Bobby and I have the bodies to take care of, but we'll be back in a little."

Both men went to the dead man and picked up his body. On their way out the door Sam nearly laughed when Bobby asked. "So flamingo, where'd you get that name?"

A/N- One last chapter, but it should be considerably shorter than the first two. And just as a side note, I live in Texas and have only left the state four times, and none of those times have I been in Nebraska. If what I described wasn't accurate, I apologize in advance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"You sure you're ok?" Dean asked re-wrapping his sister's palm with a clean bandage.

Sam sighed and yanked back her hand when he was finished. All through the car ride back to get Bobby's truck it had been nonstop questions about her and if she was okay, if she was hungry. Did she need anything? Although it was really great being heard and appreciated, she was getting sick of all the attention. Fitting right, she fought so hard all her life to be appreciated by her father, and when she gets it she doesn't want it.

"I'm fine. I'm not hungry. I took the pain pills for my palm so I don't have any pain. My ankles all wrapped up, and none of you have let me walk on it since we arrived at the motel room, and you're even insisting on helping me to and from the toilet; so yes! I'm fine." Sam sighed and put her new cell down on the bedside table. "Look I appreciate everything, I do, but it's been a day. I'm safe, and-" She paused looking around at her surroundings for once not minding the mold on the base boards. "-And I'm home Dean. I really am honestly fine."

Dean smiled and put down the first aid kit. "Good."

Sam sighed and pulled off the ice pack from her ankle, the swelling considerably down since she had been rescued. She pulled up her doufle from the ground and put it on the bed, digging around for one of her books. Her hand however found a small object wrapped in newspaper comics. Dean spun around and looked at her when she gave a little cry in shock.

"Oh Dean! I forgot all about it."

Sam tried to push off the bed and stand but Dean stopped her.

"Hey don't get up, what's wrong?"

"You're birthday, Dean! I forgot about your birthday." Sam had planned a cheesy albeit, but a party none the less. She even had gotten Bobby in the loop, convincing the older man to help decorate the bad motel room with streamers, and even supply the alcohol (she was a minor). "We were going to decorate, and I had even saved up for a cake."

Dean laughed. "Well you seemed a little busy, so I'll suppose I have to forgive you. Besides I got the next best thing, you back."

Sam didn't cheer up though. "I put you through hell on your birthday though."

"Hey stop that. You didn't do anything. You were taken, kidnapped." Dean pulled his sister into a hug. "That dumb ass put us _all_ through hell. You were stuck in a cellar, cuffed. It's kind of hard to plan a party with your ankle in a vise."

Dean released her, and rubbed her head. "If you really want me to feel better, then stop feeling sorry and just heal."

She nodded solemnly. Her hand dug back in her bag, and she pulled out the small wrapped present. She fumbled with the gift a little before she looked up at Dean and held it out. "I was supposed to give this to you two days ago but, here. Happy Birthday."

Dean smirked and took the gift, admiring the unique wrapping. "Nice, you put Garfield up in the front." He started tearing the package opened a wide smile on his face when he saw the little matchbox car packaging. "No way! You found a '67 impala and it's even black. It looks just like her."

"It is not much but-" Sam wrung at her hands.

"No way! It's awesome!" Dean enthused. He pulled out his pocket knife and slit the plastic. After wrestling the little car out he inspected the fine details. "This is amazing, Sam. Thank you."

Dean wrapped her in another hug. "I love it."

"I'm glad." She stated, simply happy that the small token had been so appreciated.

The two broke out of the embrace, when the door to the motel unlocked and opened. Bobby and their father stood in the doorway, a store bought cake with the tag still on, and an armful of bags. Bobby dumped his bags down on the little desk in the corner. "Seeing as we missed your birthday Dean, we got supplies to celebrate."

John grinned wide and started pulling things out of bags. "I got some chips and dip, there's a cake, and Bobby insisted on some silly decorations." He held a small banner with Happy Birthday all too cheerfully printed on it with rainbow letters.

Dean perked up, his excitement radiating out. "I'm game, did you get tape?" Using his trained skills he caught the roll of clear tape thrown at him and grabbed up the banner. Without turning back he frowned and yelled over his shoulder. "We have the decorating covered, Sam. Sit your ass down."

Sam frowned and plopped back down on the bed, her arms crossed.

Bobby laughed at the pout on her face. He stooped over her and passed down a Hershey's bar. "Well let's get everything set up, ya idjits. This birthday party has been belated long enough."

A/N- Couldn't find an appropriate way to end it so just imagine this. _As Bobby says his last lines the camera focuses on the outside of the motel where the impala sits illuminated by the lights in the parking spots. The camera pans out slowly, until it changes to credits. _And now you got your awesome theatric ending! (And of course as I write this I can hear the instrumentals leading up into the credits…)


End file.
